Basil.
[Smiling.] Your repartees are not brilliant, James.
James.
[Standing at the door for safety's sake.] I'll pay you out before I've done.
Basil.
[Raising his eyebrows.] James, I told you to get out five minutes ago.
James.
I'm going. D'you think I want to stay 'ere? Good-bye, Jenny, I'm not going to stand being insulted by any one. [He goes out slamming the door.]
[Basil, smiling quietly, goes to his writing-table and turns over some papers.
Basil.
The only compensation in brother James is that he sometimes causes one a little mild amusement.
Jenny.
You might at least be polite to him, Basil.
Basil.
I used up all my politeness six months ago.
Jenny.
After all, he is my brother.
Basil.
That is a fact I deplore with all my heart, I assure you.
Jenny.
I don't know what's wrong with him.
Basil.
Don't you? It doesn't matter.
Jenny.
I know he isn't a Society man.
Basil.
[With a laugh.] No, he wouldn't shine at duchesses tea-parties.
Jenny.
Well, he's none the worse for that, is he?
Basil.
Not at all.
Jenny.
Then why d'you treat him as if he was a dog?
Basil.
My dear Jenny, I don't.... I'm very fond of dogs.
Jenny.
Oh, you're always sneering. Isn't he as good as I am? And you condescended to marry me.
Basil.
[Coldly.] I really can't see that because I married you I must necessarily take your whole family to my bosom.
Jenny.
Why don't you like them? They're honest and respectable.
Basil.
[With a little sigh of boredom.] My dear Jenny, we don't choose our friends because they're honest and respectable any more than we choose them because they change their linen daily.
Jenny.
They can't help it if they're poor.
Basil.
My dear, I'm willing to acknowledge that they have every grace and every virtue, but they rather bore me.
Jenny.
They wouldn't if they were swells.
[Basil gives a short laugh, but does not answer; and Jenny irritated, continues more angrily.
Jenny.
And after all we're not in such a bad position as all that. My mother's father was a gentleman.
Basil.
I wish your mother's son were.
Jenny.
D'you know what Jimmie says you are?
Basil.
I don't vastly care. But if it pleases you very much you may tell me.
Jenny.
[Flushing angrily.] He says you're a damned snob.
Basil.
Is that all? I could have invented far worse things than that to say of myself.... [With a change of tone.] You know, Jenny, it's not worth while to worry ourselves about such trifles. One can't force oneself to like people. I'm very sorry that I can't stand your relations. Why on earth don't you resign yourself and make the best of it?
Jenny.
[Vindictively.] You don't think they're good enough for you to associate with because they're not in swell positions.
Basil.
My dear Jenny, I don't in the least object to their being grocers and haberdashers. I only wish they'd sell us things at cost price.
Jenny.
Jimmie isn't a grocer or a haberdasher. He's an auctioneer's clerk.
Basil.
[Ironically.] I humbly apologise. I thought he was a grocer, because last time he did us the honour of visiting us he asked how much a pound we paid for our tea and offered to sell us some at the same price.... But then he also offered to insure our house against fire and to sell me a gold mine in Australia.
Jenny.
Well, it's better to make a bit as best one can than to.... [She stops.]
Basil.
[Smiling.] Go on. Pray don't hesitate for fear of hurting my feelings.
Jenny.
[Defiantly.] Well, then, it's better to do that than moon about like you do.
Basil.
[Shrugging his shoulders.] Really, even to please you, I'm afraid I can't go about with little samples of tea in my pocket and sell my friends a pound or two when I call on them. Besides, I don't believe they'd ever pay me.
Jenny.
[Scornfully.] Oh no, you're a gentleman and a barrister and an author, and you couldn't do anything to dirty those white hands that you're so careful about, could you?
Basil.
[Looking at his hands, then up at Jenny.] And what is it precisely you want me to do?
Jenny.
Well,
